


Nascent

by orphan_account



Series: We Mechanical Men [4]
Category: Jonas Brothers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Robots & Androids, Consent Issues, M/M, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-24
Updated: 2012-10-24
Packaged: 2017-11-16 23:03:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/544808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A visit to Anthropos Inc.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nascent

**Author's Note:**

> This part contains a brief description of medical surgery.

Along the way, Joe kept being distracted by, oh, everything. He swivelled his head, bright-eyed and fascinated, taking in the legions of men and women in business suits, on cell phones, older, stucco buildings squashed next to multilevel edifices with bill boards, cars and taxis idling as pedestrians crossed the road with blithe disregard for personal safety. He’d never left the neighbourhood before, mostly accompanying Nick to the local park or movie theatre. The city was so _different._

“Seriously, man, if we don’t hurry up we’ll never make it on time to our appointment.”

Laughing, Joe plucked at Nick’s sleeve, “Hey, look at this.” He pointed to two acrobats performing on the street in underwear printed with the U.S. flag.

“Joe.” Nick’s voice was quiet but Joe could hear him over the sounds of traffic, people talking. “Are you nervous? It’s okay.”

Rolling his eyes, Joe said, “I’m not _nervous._ I’ve never seen acrobats before!”

“Come on, help me find Philip Street. I promise we can come back later to watch them.”

They found the address for Anthropos Inc. in the industrial section of the city. Signs emblazoned with the names of the other large robotics corporations were visible over the rooftops.

Nick gripped Joe’s hand as they walked into the building’s foyer, all gleaming chrome and white marble, delicately veined with pink. The receptionist looked up, smoothed down his tie, and greeted them with a smile. “Hello, welcome to Anthropos Inc. How can I help you today?.”

“Hi, I’m Nick Jonas. I have an appointment at twelve thirty.”

He checked his computer and buzzed them through. “You’re just on time. The labs are on level two.” 

“Thanks.”

They took an elevator up and waited about ten minutes on the chairs in the corridor. Joe flipped through a copy of _Women’s Weekly_ as Nick repeatedly glanced sideways at him, his mouth occasionally twitching as if on the verge of saying something. Eventually, a harried woman in a white lab coat came out of one of the doors to meet them.

“Sorry for the wait, we’re running a bit behind schedule today,” she said, pushing a strand of hair out of her face. “I’m Dr Kusanagi. Come on in.”

“I’m taking Joe in for routine maintenance – recalibration, software updates, memory expansion, anything you think he needs.”

“Great. Did you want some exterior modelling too? We do that for free with other upgrades.”

Nick hesitated. “Sure. Maybe make him look a little older? Otherwise he’s fine.”

“I’ll have one of my colleagues help out.” She snapped on her gloves and pressed the intercom. “Hey, Drew, are you busy? Could you come into Lab C? Thanks.” Releasing the button, she turned to Joe. “If you could remove your clothes and lie on the table, please.”

Joe folded his clothes carefully and placed them in the locker provided. He lay on the steel table as instructed; although it was covered by white cloth, it was cold against his back, his legs. The door to the lab opened and a middle-aged man with laugh lines entered. He also wore a white coat.

“Hi there! I’m Dr Peters, how are you?” He had a smoker’s voice, faintly rasping. He was looking at Nick.

“I’m well, and you?”

The scientists touched Joe’s face with gloved fingers; he felt the precise, methodical movements as they cut his skin with delicate instruments. Then they did something to him and then he could no longer smell the iron and plastic scent of the lab. He opened and shut his mouth several times, working his jaw noiselessly.

Joe felt his systems shutting down, one by one. His sight was the first to go. The world turned black, impenetrable. Senselessly, he turned on his thermal imaging but that too soon went. Blinking did not show him anything new, and someone had attached weights to his eyelids.

His body felt huge and heavy, became heavier as he lay there. The table sucked at him until he felt flattened, like he was melting into it.

The words came to him reluctantly, muffled as if from a great distance.

Nick sounded studiedly casual, but in a way no one who didn’t know him would notice. “I’ve read some of Williamson and Villiers’ work in the field of artificial intelligence; they have some really interesting things to say about the development of self-awareness. Realistically, can you tell me when AIs start developing what we would call emotions? A general timeframe.”

“Hm, they’re good but you’d probably be better off reading Dono’s latest paper.” Kusanagi snorted. “That’s Rick Dono, by the way, not that other hack.” 

“Be nice,” interrupted Peters, _sotto voce._

“As I was saying, Dono proposes some new ideas to be applied to the problem of intelligent control. In terms of AIs and emotions ... generally it takes a few years, maybe four? Three on the shorter side, I suppose, but five’s the marker when you’ll have to register at the Robot Rights Office. Obviously growth is highly subjective, depending on the android and its environment, but there have been cases where AIs have exhibited signs of what – ” here she made an off-hand gesture, “can be construed as a, a personality in a relatively short period of time.”

Nick inhaled sharply, and there was a shuffling noise as if he took a step in Joe’s direction – 

That was the last thing he heard before the darkness swallowed him. 

 

The sight that met him when his eyes opened was Nick’s concerned face. He peered down at Joe. “How do you feel?”

“Um.” Joe sat up slowly and took a few deep breaths. “I’m a little dizzy.”

“Dizzy? But Dr Peters said there wouldn’t be any side effects; stay here, I’ll go – ”

“Nah, I’m just kidding! I feel _excellent._ ”

“ … Right. Get dressed so we can head out.”

On their way out of the building, Joe kept craning his neck to see his reflection in any mirrored surfaces. The first time he saw his new face he stopped in his tracks. “Whoa!” Age was a concept that remained foreign to him; he did not associate it with himself. While he changed and evolved and learnt, the one divide he could not bridge was the one time wrought between him and his family. He could count seconds, minutes, hours and days, but knew they held a different meaning to him than they did to those at their mercy. The sight of himself, familiar since the first time he opened his eyes to see the world, was now subtly altered, a little less soft, its angles more defined. It made him draw a breath. “Huh.”

When he didn’t say anything more, Nick asked, “What do you think?”

“I look pretty good, hey.” He nudged Nick.

“Ah. I should probably tell them they made your head a bit too big.”

Nick kept his promise: they did go back to see the acrobats. They only saw the end of their show, but Joe pronounced himself satisfied.

The ride home was a quiet one. There weren’t many people on the bus, only two women chatting with each other, shopping bags at their feet, and an older man napping in the back. The old, leather seat beneath them was warm from the sunshine, and small enough so their sides were pressed together. Joe spent most of the time staring out the window. Whenever he looked over, Nick was smiling at him, and when Joe took his hand, Nick only laced their fingers together.

Denise opened the door for them. Home smelt of hot grease and cooking meat. “Hey boys! Wow, Joe, look at you, you look great. Why don’t you two keep busy for half hour or so before we have lunch. I’m making hot dogs.” 

When they were alone, Nick said, “I’m still going to hang out with Miley.”

“Okay, sure.”

Nick didn’t take his eyes off Joe. “She’s really nice, and smart, and cool, but we’re just friends. There’s nothing between us, you’ve seen that. Besides, I’m not going to let some, some _bully_ dictate my social life.”

“Okay,” Joe repeated. “It’s your choice.”

There was silence between them for a few minutes. Joe fidgeted. Nick didn’t, but there was the same restless air about him.

“Fine, I – I did have a tiny crush on her at one stage but, um. I know it’s never going to go anywhere. It’s silly, I’ll get over it.” He hesitated before saying, “Joe, are you jealous?”

What a question. Trust Nick to ask something so deceptively simple, with such a difficult answer. What _was_ the answer? I see you every day and it’s not often enough. You look at her like she’s just done something unusual and amazing, only you give her that look all the time. I love you. After you go to bed, sometimes I run diagnostic tests because you make me feel so strange. I was made for you and feel like it’s written onto every inch of my skin: Nick, Nicholas, Nicky.

Joe jumped off from his seat on the edge of the desk and paced in concentric circles, each one growing smaller, tighter. “You don’t have time for me anymore.” The minute it left his mouth he frowned; that wasn’t what he meant to say. But Nick understood him anyway.

“Oh, jeez, Joe. You’re my brother, I love you. Sometimes I’m busy and I get caught up in everything but you should know that I, that you’re first. Always. _Always_.” He came closer and wrapped his arms around Joe, squeezing tight.

“Yeah,” said Joe in a husky voice, because Nick’s voice held the ring of truth, and because Nick said the words as if they were a simple, undeniable fact. “Yeah, I know.”


End file.
